Disclaimer: Hawaii 5-0 and all of its characters belong to Peter Lenkov and CBS Studio Productions.

This sort of...happened today on Twitter when we were discussing missing Danny's ties...Then the rabid little plot bunnies started attacking me and I had to write this. I apologize if it's complete crap, but I'm running on about 3 hours sleep in the past 52 hours so...yeah...

Steve leaned back in his desk chair, a cup of coffee balanced precariously on his knee as he thumbed through the morning paper. He had woken at 0400 that morning, gone for a swim, and even gone for a run, pushing himself so hard that he ended up heaving up the mango he'd eaten into his neighbor's flower garden. He'd have to buy her some new begonias...after his workout he hadn't been able to settle down, so he'd showered, thrown on clean cargo pants and driven to HQ.

There was a stack of paperwork, which he'd avoided like the plague for most of the week, that he had breezed through. When he'd finished that and set it on Danny's desk (where he had not spent a few moments too long smiling at the photo of himself, Danny, and Grace at the zoo) he'd moved on to rearranging his office, pushing his couch to every corner before deciding that it was good where he'd had it before.

After he'd finished all of that, it left him with nothing to do but fiddle with the coffee maker and ponder his own thoughts. In his experience, that was never good...he let his eyes drift shut as his thoughts began to wander. So much had happened since that chopper ride in for his father's funeral. From Danny pointing a gun at him, to agreeing to head up Five-0. Signing on Chin Ho and Kono, to making Danny his partner (though Danny would still maintain that he had "kidnapped" him). They had all come so far since that first case. They'd really become a tight knit ohana and Steve wouldn't trade that for anything.

He couldn't deny, however, that he found himself thinking about Danny more often than not. And, the thoughts that he was having...well, they were not thoughts that any man should have about his best friend. The little jabs that he threw at the other man about him wearing ties were simply meant to throw him off of the fact that Steve was so stupid over those ties that he couldn't think straight.

The way that knot sat so unassumingly on the small hollow of his throat, hovering over soft, warm skin that practically begged to be nipped and licked at, was simply unfair. He knew that, in theory, it was stupid to be jealous of a piece of clothing, but damned if he didn't find himself swallowing down that green rage monster that clung to the back of his throat at the sight of that knot.

His hands grasped at the arms of his office chair as he tried to push away the dirty, dirty places his mind always went when it came to Danny's ties...that was why he had tried so damned hard to convince him to stop wearing them. It wasn't because he wanted Danny to "fit in", though he wouldn't deny wanting that. It was because he wanted to be able to make it to lunch without having to covertly adjust his cargo pants and restrain himself from throwing Danny over the media table, because he couldn't seem to get rid of the fantasies that were more racy than he'd had when he was thirteen.

Steve stifled a groan as a parade of images that involved his long, dextrous fingers tangling in Danny's hair as he thrusts into him until Danny was crying out his name and sweat was dripping off his chest onto Steve's desk. He shifted in his chair a couple of times before he heaved a sigh and stormed out of the office to his truck.

The drive to Danny's new apartment probably should have taken twice as long as it did, but, let's face it, Steve McGarrett had always looked at speed limits as more of a guideline anyway. His hand hovered over the door as he contemplated whether or not he should knock. He never knocked at Danny's house...it would probably raise suspicions if he started now. Then again, it was still only 6:30 in the morning. What if Danny wasn't awake? What if he was in the shower?

Steve shrugged off the concerns and tried the handle. Finding the door unlocked, he shouldered it open and stepped into the apartment. He had to give Danny credit, it was definitely an upgrade from that petri dish he'd been living in before.

"You know, if you learned to knock before entering a residence, people would probably question your 'search methods' less." Danny called from the bedroom. The simple sound of his voice never failed to bring a smile to Steve's face. Which wasn't a good thing. No, sir. He should not get that excited to see his partner. His professional partner.

"Yeah, but if I didn't invade your privacy you'd be concerned." He tried to pull off non-chalance, but even he knew that it sounded strange. Danny stepped out of the bathroom, his hands still moving through the motions of tying the navy blue silk around his neck. Steve's jaw dropped slightly, of its own volition, and his tongue suddenly felt about three sizes too big for his mouth.

"You okay, McGarrett? You look like someone stole your C4." Danny chuckled, glancing down at the knot.

"What, uh, what knot you got going over there, Danno?" Steve stammered, knowing that the question was odd, even for him. Danny quirked an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Now you want to know all the inner workings of the elusive tie knots? What gives? Usually I can't even make it through my malasadas without you giving me shit for 'being overly Jersey'. Have I finally gotten through that thick skull and bestowed some domesticity, you beast?" Danny feigned shock, but Steve brushed aside the instinct to scowl at him, choosing to step closer instead.

"Answer the question, Danny." He grumbled, his voice dropping nearly an octave. A visible shudder ran through Danny, and Steve's fingers itched to reach out and touch that goose-bumped skin of his arms.

"It's a, um," Steve watched as Danny pulled the knot tight, his throat flexing as he dry swallowed around his words. "It's a four-in-hand knot."

Steve's fingers were quivering (but he would deny that. He was a Navy SEAL, for fuck's sake.) as he reached out and ran the pad of his thumb over the soft material. Danny didn't say anything, and he didn't reach out and punch him, so Steve counted that as a win in his book. His eyes flicked up to Danny's, the fiery blue irises making his stomach clench.

"Steve?" Danny's voice was low enough that Steve would have missed it if he hadn't been standing close enough that their chests brushed against each other when Steve sucked in a deep breath. Steve wound the tie around his hand, reveling in the feeling of silk that had been warmed by Danny's chest. He yanked lightly, pulling Danny forward until he was flush against his chest. "Steven, you cannot just come in here and tug me around like some dog. That's not how normal human interaction works, okay? You need to have some sort of interven-." Steve cut off Danny's rant by closing his teeth over the other man's lower lip.

"Danno, just...stop talking." He breathed against Danny's lips. Danny groaned softly when he dove in for more, his tongue snaking over Danny's lower lip before tracing the roof of his mouth. "I love your ties. Did you know that?" He growled when they pulled apart.

"But, you always give me shit about it." Danny gasped as Steve went about tearing the buttons open on Danny's shirt. Some of the buttons skittered across the floor loudly. "Ah, what the hell, Steven! I like this shirt."

"I give you shit because you have no idea how fucking distracting it is to see you in these," He gave a sharp tug on the tie as he pushed Danny's shirt to the floor. "And not be able to do anything about it." He reached down and unbuttoned Danny's slacks, pushing them over his hips and palming his length. "Commando, Danno? And here I was thinking that you weren't adventurous."

"L-laundry day." Danny stammered, his hips pressing forward of their own accord. Steve gave him a positively filthy grin as he dropped to his knees in front of him, Danny's tie still wound tightly around his hand, and ran his tongue along the underside of Danny's erection.

He smirked at the strangled cry that came from his partner's lips when he slid his lips over the entire length of him. "Oh, fuck." Danny gasped, his hand dropping to tangle in Steve's hair. His hips pulsed forward into the wet heat that engulfed him completely while Steve flicked his tongue over the tip each time that Danny pulled out slightly, gathering the intoxicating salty taste there.

Steve hummed contenty at the taste that was purely Danny as his fingers dug deeper into his partner's thighs in a grasp that he was sure was going to leave dark bruises in the ivory skin. Danny whimpered and moaned under Steve's ministrations as he thrusted more erratically into the tight channel of Steve's throat.

"Fuck, Steve, gonna-." His words were cut short when Steve increased the suction he was applying, hollowing out his cheeks and groaning around Danny. The vibration was enough to send Danny over the edge, his entire body tensing as he emptied himself down Steve's throat. Steve swallowed down everything that Danny had to offer before pulling away, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth, and tugging harshly on the tie until Danny's lips collided with his. The smaller man's tongue invaded his mouth as if he was chasing his own taste.

"Easy, Danno." Steve muttered, pressing his hand to Danny's bare chest and pushing him back slightly with a smug grin.

"What the fuck was that all about, Steve?" He breathed, his hand dropping from Steve's hair to his cheek.

"That was about you being a damned tease for too long, partner." Steve smirked in response. "One of us had to take action and apparently it wasn't going to be you."

"I...I'm the damned tease? I'm a tease, he says. You're the one that takes your shirt off at the drop of a hat, and goes jumping into the ocean just so you can play 'GQ Covershoot' on the way out." Danny ranted, scowling at Steve. He reached up his hand and swatted at where Steve still had a tight hold on his tie. "And would you let go of my damned tie? I'm not a dog."

"I like this tie, Danny. I don't want to let it go. It's soft. Silky."

"Well, that makes sense. It is, in fact, a silk tie. Gracie got it for me the last time she and Rachel went to England. Some high-end fashion place that Step-Stan insisted was 'all the rage'." Danny rolled his eyes in typical Williams fashion, and it brought another broad grin to Steve's face.

"I'll have to get Step-Stan a fruit basket or something." He chuckled low in his throat, his free hand running down the length of Danny's chest, his fingers tangling in the soft hair there. Danny snorted a chuckle in response.

"There are a lot of things that you should get Step-Stan, but a fruit basket is not one of them, babe." He hesitated before continuing. "So...we're not going to freak out about this, right? I mean...we're still good, yeah?"

"Of course we're good, Danno." Steve dropped a kiss to Danny's forehead before, finally, releasing the tight hold he'd been keeping on the tie. "We're going to be late for work if you don't finish getting ready." He teased, prodding Danny's shoulder.

"You know, I was almost ready, but some animal showed up and manhandled me into submission." The words held no bite, however, when Steve noticed the smirk on his face. He chuckled and reached up to run his fingers over the knot again briefly.

"Four-in-hand, huh?"

"Four-in-hand. I'm surprised they didn't teach you that for some fancy pants deep-cover thing in SEAL school."

"Naw, they taught us all about these hoity-toity tie knots." Danny quirked an eyebrow as he moved to haul his slacks back over his hips. Steve laughed and moved to grab Danny a new shirt, mentally promising to sew all those buttons back on. Hey, those Boy Scout years had to come in handy, right? When he came back from the room, shirt in hand, he elaborated. "I just always figured you for a full-Windsor and a power suit type of guy, Danno."

Danny scowled at him, but Steve didn't really care. He would take Danny's ties with whatever knot the other man deemed appropriate because, lord knew, Steve had always had a thing for Danny in his ties.